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Henry is in the cafeteria when Alex finds him.
He plops down across the table, startles him out of his book. Pushes the cup of Earl Grey he has in his hands in front of him so forcefully a few droplets spill. “I’m going to ask Nora out,” he declares before he loses his nerve—already, every cell in his body hates this conversation; the less time it takes, the better.
Henry arches a brow. “Okay?” he says, almost like a question. Alex meets his eyes and arches a brow.
“Is it?”
“Is it what?”
Fucking hell, for someone so smart, Henry can really act like a dumb blond sometimes. “Is it okay. That I ask her out. Since, you know, you dated her.” He pushes the tea closer to Henry as a peace offering, tries not to be offended by the choking sound at the back of his throat. Piercing blue eyes stare at Alex, so deep he feels exposed. He almost wants to run away. Wants to hide.
“I dated her.”
“Over Christmas. You said you were bringing her home.” Alex remembers it distinctly. The curdling feeling in his stomach when he found out. The hushed conversations he witnessed but wasn’t privy to. The jealousy that reared its head whenever he saw Nora lean just a bit too close to Henry’s ear, even though he should’ve been happy for his two friends.
The two are over now, Nora is single, but those moments are still branded in his mind. Except, hopefully, not for long.
“So, like, is it okay if I ask her out?” He searches Henry’s face. It’s almost frustrating, how blank it is. With shaky fingers, Henry lifts the cup of tea and takes a scalding sip. Gulps it down.
“Yeah,” he says finally. “Yeah, it’s okay.”
Alex doesn’t even know why he’s disappointed.
i.
Nora’s phone vibrates while she’s in the bathroom.
“You got a text!” Alex yells. “From Reilly. She’s asking when you’ll be flying back.” There’s silence at first, and then Nora shuts the water briefly.
“Tell her I’ll fucking call her when I get the chance.” She yells her passcode through the door, and Alex unlocks her phone, navigating to her messages. That’s his intention, at least, until another app catches his attention. Photos, right next to the Messages, beckoning him like a mystery box he’s not supposed to open. His thumb hovers over it, lower lip pulled between his teeth.
He wonders if she’d have kept her pictures with Henry. If she’d even have taken them, considering Henry’s aversion to a camera. If they’d have a lot of pictures—more than she has with Alex, more than any other person.
Without thinking, he clicks.
The newest pictures are familiar. Selfies with Alex, candids of him, the brunch they’ve had the day before, notes from a class they’re in together. He scrolls up, through the artistic pictures of the Georgetown campus, mirror selfies of her outfits, videos of clubs. Pictures of her friends, picture with the three of them together—Henry, Alex, and Nora, all with grinning faces. Then, all the way back to December, the month he knows she was dating Henry.
There isn’t a singular picture of him.
Not a couple-y one, at least. Alex recognizes some of the pictures—the ones of Henry and Alex Nora took, the ones of Henry alone, the ones of Alex alone. Recognizes the pictures of the three of them. Her Hanukkah celebrations, her family, her goddamn food. But not Henry, not as her boyfriend. Not them as a couple.
He stops at one. It’s over the holidays, only because Alex is pretty sure that’s the Big Ben in the background. Henry has this ridiculous smile on his face, as if he can’t believe Nora is taking a picture of him in his own hometown, holding a small British flag. Alex can’t help it—he zooms into his face, the pixelated curl of his lips, the golden floppy hair bright even under the gloomy London sky. He’s beautiful, inside and out—the conventional beauty of a Disney Prince mixed with everything good that’s in him. He doesn’t know what Nora might even see in Alex after dating…that.
He shuts the app so quickly she almost flings the phone. She must’ve deleted them, he thinks. Must’ve erased that memory to preserve a friendship. It’s a good thing. He sends the message to Reilly, and then shuts her phone, trying to focus on the show on TV.
“Dude, you okay?” Nora asks later. He fakes a smile.
“Peachy.”
ii.
Nora doesn’t let him drive.
Not that he can’t drive. She just firmly believes he’s a shit driver, and she’s not letting anyone take the wheel in her car if they’re likely to crash it.
He wonders if that’s an excuse. He knows Henry doesn’t have a license—knows that when they were dating, Nora must’ve been the one driving them around. Wonders if Henry sat where he’s sitting right now, if she placed a hand on Henry’s thigh just as she always does with Alex.
“So, like,” he blurts out one night as they drive to a restaurant, “what kind of dates did Henry take you on?”
It is a testament to Nora’s skills that she doesn’t crash into the nearest tree, even when her hand jerks on Alex’s thigh and she has to grip the steering wheel tight to keep the car between the lanes. “Are you really asking me about other dates I went on when we’re driving to a restaurant for our first proper date?”
From her mouth, it sounds petty. Jealous. Annoying. Alex runs a hand through his hair and squints out the window. “It was just a question,” he argues; he can almost imagine Nora arching a brow even though he doesn’t turn to her. “I just thought… I mean, if there was anything you liked. We could do that.” It’s a blatant lie, and Nora must know it. She’s silent at first, but finally she must decide not to call him out on it. Her hand returns to Alex’s thigh.
“We didn’t really do much,” she says nonchalantly. “And if we did, I would ask you. Not because I did it with him but because I wanted to do it with you. Because, you know, I’m dating you.” Alex’s eyes flicker to her. Her gaze is intense even as she looks out onto the road, and he believes her. Believes that she’s fully moved on, that it’s okay that she dated Henry and she’s now dating Alex.
“Okay,” he says. He takes her hand in his and tries not to think about whether it fit better in Henry’s hand.
iii.
“I want to meet your parents,” Alex declares when they’ve been dating for three weeks. Nora looks up from her work and arches a brow.
“You already met my parents.”
“I want to meet your parents as your boyfriend.” He stops. “And I want you to meet my parents as my girlfriend.”
It’s a ridiculous request. Deep down, Alex knows it. His parents already know he’s dating Nora and she never made it a secret with her parents either. Except, they just hit the one month mark in their relationship and Henry had taken her home in an official capacity by then. She’d sit at his family’s table, laughed with them and ate with them and it all fucking meant something.
Alex tries not to think too much about that.
“Okay.” Nora closes her laptop and focuses on him. “Any particular reason?”
“Just…” Alex shrugs. “Thought it might be nice. To have, like, a dinner or something.” Like you had with Henry’s family, he thinks but he can’t say it. Did you hold his hand under the table? Did you feed him from your plate? Did he smile at you with grease smeared on his lips? “I know they’re not in the area but we could, like, call.”
Nora looks suspicious. “As long as there’s no other reason for it.” Alex has to bite the inside of his cheek. Has to fake a laugh and shake his head.
“Why would there be?”
He leans in for a kiss, pressed to the corner of Nora’s lips, and tries not to wonder if Henry kissed her just like that, too.
iv.
“Wait,” Nora says, and Alex immediately lifts his head from her neck.
“You okay?” She looks okay—she looks hot, with her hair spread on the pillows like this, with the sleeve of her shirt pulled down so Alex can access her shoulder. “Is it… Is it okay?” he asks again—it’s not like he’s bad at this, but Nora isn’t inexperienced either. Maybe she likes it different.
Maybe Henry was able to give her what she wanted.
Nora pushes herself up to a sitting position, sits against the headboard. “It’s fine,” she says—not exactly a glowing praise, but it’s at least not bad—“but I’d rather you be into it, too.”
Alex jerks back. Frowns. “I’m into it.”
“You’re not. You’re distracted.” She runs a hand through her hair, trying to tame her messy curls. “I know you’re thinking of something. I know it’s not me.”
“I’m not—”
“Alex.” Her gaze is piercing, and Alex finally breaks. He sits back on the bed, grabs his t-shirt to pull it over his head. It’s not like this thing is going anywhere. “Tell me.”
“Just—” Alex laughs. Fucking hell, it’s so dumb. “I just can’t stop thinking about you and Henry.”
To her credit, Nora doesn’t laugh at him. She does, however, arch a brow.
“Like—did you bring him to your room? Did he kiss you on your bed? Was it good?” Henry’s lips are so full, so smooth. It must’ve been good. It must’ve been amazing. “I know it’s not fair to you. I know he’s your ex. I’m sorry.”
Nora is silent for so long that Alex has to brace himself. “You’re right,” she says finally. She doesn’t even sound particularly sad, just…resigned. “It’s not fair for me. But I don’t think it’s fair for you, either.”
Alex blinks. “What does that supposed to mean?”
“God, you’re really thick sometimes.” Alex would’ve been offended if at this moment he didn’t kind of feel the same. “You’re not jealous of him because you’re into me, Alex. You’re jealous of me because you’re into him.”
Alex’s stomach does a flip. “I’m straight,” he says immediately, but it feels wrong in his mouth. It feels like a practiced response.
“Right.” Nora smiles a little bit, and it’s a testament to her character that it looks fond. “Look. I can’t tell you how to feel. But just… Think on it, okay? Before you make a decision.”
She moves to stand and Alex’s eyes track her. “Are you—” he tries, voice choked at first. “Are you breaking up with me?” She looks at him and shrugs.
“I guess.” Alex expects the heartbreak. He opens his mouth, ready to fight for her. But all he feels is…relief.
He hates that all he feels is relief.
“I think we’re better as friends anyway.” Nora leans over the bed to press a kiss on his cheek. “And if it helps at all, Henry and I never dated. He just needed a girl to bring home to get his grandmother off his back on Christmas. I don’t think he likes me that way.”
With that, she takes her backpack and walks out, leaving Alex on the bed with his running heart and his scrambled thoughts.
v.
Alex thinks back to his relationship with Nora.
There must be a moment where he started fancying her. A moment he looked at her and thought, yes, this is the person I want. He should be able to remember the details of that moment. Should remember what she was doing. He should fucking remember what her favorite flowers were, except all he can think of is that he never really got her anything but a bouquet of roses on their first date.
All he can think of is her shoulder pressed against Henry’s when he walked in on them booking flights together.
At that moment, he wished he was the one there. Not next to Nora, but next to Henry.
He thinks back to Henry. His rival at first in their first college class, then his friend, then his best friend. He pictures Henry’s smile in his mind—all of his different smiles, from the smallest to largest. He knows Henry snorts a little before he laughs, he knows his eyes crinkle even when he’s trying to fight a grin. He knows the lilt of his voice, the way his accent rolls around each vowel, the flutter of his lashes as he blinks.
He knows that Henry’s favorite flowers are carnations, even if he had no reason to brand that into his memory.
And he knows, deep in his gut, the moment he fell for Henry Fox.
It’s before he started dating Nora. Before they were even really friends. It was past midnight and Alex needed a cup of coffee. The café was crowded with students but there’s really one person that caught his attention. One person at the counter, chatting with the barista in his low-slung sweatpants and sweatshirt, cooing at what seems to be a picture of a baby on a phone. “She looks absolutely adorable,” he heard Henry say as he walked up to the counter. “You are so lucky.”
It was a side of Henry he hadn’t seen before. A side that’s a little messier, a little kinder. Not the pompous Brit Alex made fun of but a man who talks to the late night barista simply to keep her company.
Back then, Alex had snorted at the sight. Looked away when his heart squeezed with what he thought was jealousy. Now, he recognizes it for what it is. Recognizes what that feeling was.
He’s out of his bed before he makes a decision, rushing out of his dorm. And he knows where to go.
+i.
Henry isn’t in his room or in the library, and finally Alex finds him at the cafeteria.
He’s seated at the corner, laptop in front of him. The same table he was sitting on when Alex asked him if he could date Nora. It feels like a cruel twist of fate.
This time, he doesn’t plop down on the empty seat, doesn’t rush into the conversation. “Hey,” he says carefully, lingering behind the chair. “May I?”
Henry’s eyes meet his over the lid of his laptop, brows arched. “Since when do you ask before you do what you want?”
Alex laughs. Runs a hand through his hair. “Since I have to fucking apologize for being a dickhead.” He sits down and he can feel Henry’s eyes watching his every move. Knows every single shade in those irises without even looking.
So fucking stupid, thinking it was Nora he was in love with. So stupid.
“You and Nora,” he starts, as quietly as he can manage. “You were never really dating, were you?” He meets Henry’s eyes and sees the answer in there. Decides to take a wager. “You’re not straight.” Henry shakes his head. “Your family doesn’t know.”
He takes longer to answer this time. “My grandmother—” he says, and stops when he chokes on his words. Takes a deep breath. “She insists on me marrying a girl, and marrying soon. Every single time I go home, she insists on setting up dates for me with random women I’m not interested in. I thought… Bringing a girl might make her stop. And Nora had never seen England.”
It makes sense. More fucking sense than Henry actually dating Nora—not because she’s not gorgeous but because he’s never once seemed to be interested in her until suddenly they were flying to London together.
“I’m sorry for not telling you,” Henry says before Alex can process everything. “I should’ve been honest. I just… You were such a good friend, and I didn’t—”
“If you tell me you thought I would abandon you because you’re gay, I’ll actually fucking abandon you.” A laugh escapes Henry’s lips, and fuck, Alex has to smile, too. He’s such a goddamn idiot. “I don’t care, Henry. Well, I do, a little bit, but like, not for why you might think.”
Henry frowns. “I’m not following.”
“Well, that makes two of us because I didn’t fucking know either until Nora smacked some sense into me.” He breathes. This is it. “We broke up.”
Henry’s face morphs into surprise, then hope, then sadness in the span of a second. “I’m sorry,” he says because he’s a good fucking friend, even if he might like Alex.
“It’s okay.” And that’s the truth. “It was a mutual decision. I should’ve never really asked her out in the first place. I just…misinterpreted some feelings.” He meets Henry’s eyes. After he fucked up so majorly, he has to be as open about it as possible. “I was jealous of you two because I thought I wanted her. But I was wrong.”
He thinks Henry stops breathing. Alex isn’t sure if he’s fucking breathing either.
“I was jealous,” he continues, picking his words carefully, “because I wanted to be with you.” He stops. Looks away from Henry because he can face him as he’s spilling his feelings but he doesn’t want to see the reaction. He’s fucking terrified of the reaction. “So, like, if you could let me down gently, that would be—”
“Alex.” Henry’s voice is hoarse. His hand is gentle as he takes Alex’s chin between his hands, as he tilts his head until Alex looks at him again. “Do you mean it?”
Alex gulps. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”
That’s all it takes. Henry believes him, and Alex knows because he’s leaning in, almost knocking his cup of tea until Alex scrambles to steady him, and then his brain promptly shuts down when Henry’s lips meet his. They’re soft, full, insistent, just as good as Alex imagined they’d be, just as breathtaking as he always wanted.
Later, he’ll probably think Nora’s kisses never managed to make him feel this way. Now, all he can feel is Henry.
A whine leaves his lips when Henry pulls back. A huffed laugh, a little snort, and then blue eyes meet his. “You’re an idiot,” Henry tells him.
Alex can’t even be mad. “But, like, you like me so what does that make you?”
Henry’s smile is incandescent. “Your idiot.”
(Alex does take Nora home for Easter, along with Henry, when June is back from college and his entire family is together.
Two days into the trip, Nora comes up to him and Henry. “I’m asking your sister out,” she tells Alex. “And you dated me for a month when you liked Henry, so you can’t be mad at me.” Alex doesn’t even have the time to open his mouth before she’s leaving and he has to laugh.
Henry wraps an arm around his shoulders. “I believe that’s what we call karma, love,” he says. Alex huffs out a breath.
“Yeah, yeah, I fucking deserved that.” He looks over at Henry. Holds his cheek. “I love you,” he murmurs—three words he feels so deep in his heart it would’ve been concerning if they didn’t make Henry smile.
“I love you, too.”
It’s hard to think about Nora when his love kisses him like that.)